


A Good Man

by TiltAndWhirl



Series: Fantastic Drabbles & Where To Find Them... [1]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Drabble, F/M, Male-Female Friendship, Post-Movie 1: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, Pre-Relationship, Recovery, The Start Of It
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-06
Updated: 2019-07-06
Packaged: 2019-08-24 05:08:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16633538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TiltAndWhirl/pseuds/TiltAndWhirl
Summary: A plotless little drabble about an OC coming to help a recovering Graves from his time in Grindlewald's control.





	A Good Man

**Author's Note:**

> So, once upon a time, a long time ago _(also known as some time shortly after the first FBAWTFT film came out)_ I wrote a series of drabbles inspired by the films. After seeing the second film yesterday, I wanted to update them, but lo and behold, I don't remember the password to that account, so here this is. The rewritten - and hopefully better - version in a new account.
> 
> Please, enjoy.

**\- Elizabeth Hackney-Selwyn -**

 

 

_And, to think, only yesterday, I was thinking this city had become too quiet for me to stay in New York..._

The thought crossed my mind as I tried to shake the MACUSA tail I had picked up by sliding into one of the less reputable _(and wasn't that putting it lightly?)_ Wizarding pubs in New York, barely resisting the urge to roll my eyes.

It wasn't that I _blamed_ MACUSA for taking in interest in my sudden flurry of activity - _I was a known criminal, after all, even if they'd never been able to actually pin anything on me_  - but that didn't mean I wasn't irritated by their attention. I had things to do! And I would have assumed that MACUSA had more important, more _internal_ , matters to focus on, as opposed to my plans to leave their jurisdiction.

Truth be told, I would have thought they'd be happy to see the back of me...

 

 _And yet_ , I mused: taking a second sip of the whiskey I'd ordered as the woman who considered herself my nemesis walked into the bar:  _apparently not_.

 

"Selwyn?"

I turned to see recently reinstated Auror Tina Golstein, not my MACUSA-appointed tail but just as irritating, looking at me awkwardly, scuffing the toe of her boot on the grimy tiled floor while glaring at it as if it had personally offended her: "Auror Goldstein. I think you'll find that, whatever it is that you _think_ I may have done, I haven't done it."

She shook her head vehemently, frowning and finally stopping glaring at the floor: "No, I know there aren't any warrants out for your arrest at the moment...although that was a little defensive...are you hiding something, Selwyn?"

"Almost always." I smirked, deliberately taunting the woman who had been responsible for three out of my twelve arrests over my nine years in the States: "But nothing illegal."

"This time."

   

I sighed, rolling my eyes at the pettiness in Auror Goldstein's tone.

She had never liked me, and had never hidden that fact...and not that I gave a damn, but after almost a decade it was starting to get a little tiresome. Especially when it made her follow me into pubs where all I wanted to do was shake a tail and get a drink. I was bored of it now.

 

"Did you actually want something, Goldstein? Or are you just harassing me for fun?"

Goldstein looked physically pained, swallowing convulsively before she muttered: "I...I mean we - I mean  _MACUSA_ needs your help. We wouldn't ask - Mercy Lewis knows we wouldn't ask - but...it's a matter of life and death, you see. And, quite honestly, we've exhausted all of our other ideas."

"The answer, Goldstein, is no." I said, shaking my head and standing to take my leave: "I'm not interested."

 

Auror Goldstein was obviously irritated, if the look on her face was anything to go by, but I didn't let that stop me from walking away from her.

There was no love lost between me and Goldstein, or even me and MACUSA as a whole, and since I was not going to be in America much longer...I saw no reason to try and un-burn the bridges between us now. There were some bridges that were just meant to go up in smoke, the ones between Selwyns and law enforcement agencies were perfect examples of such bridges. And if I had a chance to make an Auror like Goldstein _(an Auror who was possibly one of the most pig-headed, irritating, and short-sighted women I'd ever met)_ sweat...well, then of course I was going to take it. It wasn't like she wouldn't do the same if the positions were reversed.

She'd probably enjoy it as much as I was now. Because she was petty like that.

Not that I was entirely innocent when it came to our little feud...but that wasn't important right now. All that mattered was getting out of Goldstein's line of sight before she tried to arrest me for something.

 

" _Selwyn_ \- "

I rolled my eyes much more obviously now, sighing heavily as I turned back to the Auror following me out of the pub: " _Goldstein_. Look, whatever problems MACUSA is having, they're MACUSA's problems, not mine. I actually have my own affairs to put in order before I leave for home - as I'm sure MACUSA is well aware of, and as a result, I do not have the time to argue in the doorway of pubs with you - so, if I'm not under arrest, and I've already refused to help you...why are you still talking to me?"

 

Goldstein sputtered at my abruptness, giving me the opportunity to turn sharply on my heel and walk away without another word. I knew that I was perhaps - _just perhaps_ \- being a little harsh, but being locked in a damp, musty jail in the depths of MACUSA's basements hadn't exactly made me fond of them or their Aurors the first time it had happened. After the eighth time, it made me actually dislike them. Especially when, the first time I had ended up there, I hadn't even done anything illegal. It was actually my on-again-off-again fiancé, who had gotten sloppy during a jewellery heist and left a picture of my face behind, and of course that had put me under suspicion.

I'd broken off our engagement for the last time after that...not just because he'd cast suspicion over me, but because Selwyns did not suffer fools lightly...and the Hackneys on my mother's side of my family, we didn't suffer idiots who couldn't keep up with our plots. I came from a long line of jewellery thieves, and I couldn't possibly marry someone who couldn't even pull off a small-scale robbery like the one my ex-fiancé had managed to screw up.

But the problem was, even though I had ditched that simpleton, after that first arrest I'd never quite been able to shake MACUSA off; they'd always suspected my involvement in  any major or even significant jewel theft, even if they'd never found any evidence to implicate me in the crimes. They came after me at every opportunity they got, and then after twelve arrests and an innumerable amount of wasted hours in those forsaken cells, they had the audacity to ask for my help in a so-called 'life or death situation'. I was quite shocked. And more than that, I was incensed.

More than that, I was suspicious.

There was no way Goldstein was telling me the truth - at least not the whole truth. She was a little too careful with her words, she was a little too tense (even for dealing with me), and her eyes were just too panicky. She was hiding something, and since MACUSA couldn't be trusted to begin with, there was no chance I was going to follow one of their Aurors into the Woolworth Building when Goldstein was _actively_ trying to pull the wool over my eyes.

At the end of the day, I had no intention of setting so much as a toe in the Woolworth Building so long as I continued to breathe.

And then once I was dead I was going to have my remains bespelled so that they wouldn't cross the threshold.

 

_Never let it be said that only Goldstein could be petty._

I was almost away, almost at the end of the block, when I felt Goldstein's hand close tightly around my wrist, pulling me back towards her. I pushed back my instinctive response of forcing her release me - _knowing she'd only use it as an excuse to arrest and take me in_ - choosing instead to freeze in place while I glared down at the fingers wrapped tightly around my forearm darkly.

 

"Ms Goldstein, please let go of my arm."

"Ms Selwyn, please - "

"I said _let go_." I snapped.

"If you would just listen - "

"Listen?" I laughed: "Why? I don't like you, and you don't like me. I don't like MACUSA, and MACUSA doesn't like me. And more than that, you might think your little act has been convincing, but I know you're not telling me shit about what's really going on. So unless you feel like spilling - "

"It's Graves." Goldstein exclaimed, cutting me off: "Please. Selwyn. It's Graves."

 

My stomach twisted uncomfortably at her words, but I didn't let it show.

Selwyns did not get so hepped-up over something as simple as a man - and Hackneys did not get so hepped-up over a man in law enforcement, not unless he was actually trying to arrest us...and even that was hit-and-miss.

When Aurors came knocking on our door, we were poised and calm: and always acted like we had the upper hand. Mostly because we did, especially the women of the family...but, Percival Graves wasn't any ordinary man. He wasn't even an ordinary law enforcement officer. He was...well, he was Percival Graves. He was (surprisingly, considering his stern, rule-abiding nature) was one of the few Aurors that I could stand - either here, or back home in England. He was one of the few people outside my social circles I found tolerable. Perhaps even likeable, sometimes, although I'd likely never admit it. But I couldn't allow Goldstein to see I gave a damn about any member of MACUSA. Especially Graves, a man who had the words 'rule-abiding' written into his very being.

Despite my efforts to appear unaffected, though, it was clear Goldstein sensed my discomfort...probably because, despite what I thought of her personally, I couldn't deny she was good at her job, the perceptive bitch. Even though I _really_ wanted to do just that when she twisted so she blocked my escape: eyes imploring as she looked up at me:

 

"Please, Selwyn, just listen. Please. He needs help and we've tried everyone and everything else. Just... _please_. Help us."

 

...I _really_ didn't want to.

But it was Graves.

He may be arrogant, self-righteous, and insisted on sending Goldstein, among other Aurors, out to arrest me - but when I had needed someone to take a second look at my case, to prove my innocence...it was him that had one just that, even it it wasn't on my account, the one time I had needed help: he hadn't hesitated get his hands dirty to help me himself. The man was admirable, and I owed him a debt: and neither Hackneys or Selwyns ever forgot a debt.

So, slowly, I nodded.

If Percival Graves needed help, help that Goldstein believed no-one else could give him, then what choice did I have? I could get over my hatred of MACUSA, Goldstein, and the Woolworth Building, and delay my journey back to England if needs be, to get the job done before resuming my life as normal...and probably the less said about that life I was planning on returning to the better, so I kept quiet about my plans as I followed Goldstein back to the Woolworth Building. Instead I focused on keeping my amusement under wraps when I saw the looks of confusion and shocked fear on the faces of Goldstein's fellow Aurors when they saw her leading me here without handcuffs. I could even see one or two testing her for the Imperius Curse, so shocked were they to see me in MACUSA's lobby without handcuffs and a security escort. After all, that had been the case on the several occasions I'd been dragged in...and the fear that had circulated when I lunged at someone on those times was the same fear as now, when I sent casual smirks and flirty winks at selected MACUSA workers on my way to their Medical Wing.

Appearances had to be maintained, after all. Because I might have _temporarily_ gotten over my dislike of law enforcement, but that was only going to last until Graves was better.

It was only when the white doors of the Medical Wing closed behind Goldstein and I that I let the antagonistic facade drop. The Medi-Witches paid me little to no attention as they bustled around, efficiently and calmly panicked in a way only medical professionals could be, as Goldstein led me deeper into the department, offering a garbled explanation of what had happened.

Apparently, there was a reason that Graves had not been sending Aurors after me for the past few months.

Because Graves hadn't _been_ Graves - he'd been Gellert goddamn Grindlewald, the European dark Wizard and an utter coward, if you asked me. Hiding behind another man's face to lure a child in to do his dirty work: it was pathetic, and it angered me that Graves' name had been dragged through the mud in such a way. He didn't need that crap - _well, no-one did, but someone like Graves especiall_ y - and now he was going to have to deal with that stigma for years, when a man who had lived his adult life on service to others did not deserve such tribulations.

...Moving swiftly on, though, they had found out the man they thought was Graves wasn't Graves when one Newt Scamander _(who I would be having words with when I got a moment...why hadn't my favourite brother in law not come to see me when he was in New York?)_ had exposed him while trying to protect an Obscurus _(about which more words would be had)_. And although he was getting better physically, mentally he wasn't doing too well.

So now he was trapped in a place where he could trust nothing an no-one, waiting for everything to be ripped away and his rescue to be revealed as some kind of trick of Grindlewald's. According to Goldstein, he hadn't slept in a week, wouldn't eat or drink anything, and tried to curse anyone who touched him, a mere word causing him to jump out of his skin.

My heart ached for the man.

 

 _Oh, if only my mother could see me now - feeling sympathetic for a lawman..._ I mused idly as Goldstein paused outside the door of the private rooms: _well, he is a good looking one. She'd probably understand_.

 

"In here." Goldstein murmured, seeming to brace herself for something unpleasant: "Just...please see if you can talk some sense into him. He doesn't trust anyone else anymore."

 

 _And who could blame him?_ I thought waspishly: _None of you noticed that another man wore his face - of course he doesn't trust your incompetent arses._

 

Bust instead of insulting Goldstein aloud, I merely kept my tone neutral as I asked her: "How long can you give me to talk to him?"

"As long as you need. No-one...no-one knows you're here except for me and my sister."

 

Silently, I nodded. Despite myself, I had to respect Goldstein's brass for risking the wrath of her government to right a wrong she wasn't even solely responsible for. The woman had steel in her spine. I wouldn't mock or insult that. Instead, I knocked and then opened the door, expecting the worst.

And yet, I still wasn't prepared.

The Percival Graves in the room, the Percival Graves who had all of a sudden pressed himself back against a wall like I was some kind of monster, was a shadow of the man I remembered. A ghost of his former self.

Instead of the well put-together, immaculate man I was used to seeing watching me impassively with his hands held behind his back, the man inside the hospital room looked like a wild man. His usually neatly slicked-back hair was longer: unkempt and greasy. He had a month's worth of facial hair, but even that couldn't hide the shocking gauntness of his face - and it wasn't just his face where he had lost weight: I still could see his bones poking against his sallow, waxy skin elsewhere on his body. His muscles had atrophied, his lips were cracked and bleeding, and his eyes - dark eyes that were usually so calm and collected, were now wild and terrified.

He had bolted to his feet when the door opened, and hadn't relaxed even though I was deliberately being as unthreatening as I could:

 

"Selwyn...?" he croaked, his voice confused and lost, almost broken from not being used in so long, before he cleared his throat, shaking his head and pulling out a semi-apologetic expression as he neatly folded himself into the chair he'd vacated as if the small table was actually his office desk: "Sorry, I mean Ms Selwyn. What can I do for you today?"

"Good afternoon, Director Graves." I ignored his question, bustling into the room as if I owned it: shedding my thick winter coat and hat as I did so: "I must say, it's rather good to see you again - life has got rather boring around here recently."

 

My jovial tone was apparently appreciated, if the way Graves' shoulder relaxed was any indication. Because it wasn't pity. Men like Graves never wanted pity: and as much as he deserved sympathy, he wouldn't accept it, not now - maybe not ever, he'd rather turn the whole thing into a throw away matter, a nothing-event...and for now, that was okay.

He wanted normalcy. He wanted to pretend the incident with Grindlewald had happened. And I was more than willing to give him that.

 

So I merely smirked back at him when he smiled and snarked: "Well, I would've loved to be dragging you in here every other day, Selwyn, but I was unfortunately otherwise preoccupied."

"Hmm, I suppose I'll let it go." I pretended to be grudging: "Just this once, mind you."

"Whatever you say, Miss Selwyn. Whatever you say."

I moved deeper into the room, pulling a book of word puzzles out of my handbag as I transfigured a pillow from the cot into another chair, levitating it over so I could sit at the same table as Graves, and pouring both of us a glass of water from the jug on the chest of drawers: "Yes, damn right whatever I say, Mister Graves. Do you know how many of these I've been unable to complete without my down-time in the cells, and you glaring over my shoulder and spoiling the answers for me at every chance you got?"

"You say spoiling - I say helping. And as an Auror, it is my solemn duty to help people."

 

I rolled my eyes at the almost teasing tone in Graves' voice, waiting for him to gesture for me to join him at the table as I opened the book and pulled out a pen from my trouser pocket, silently telling Graves that he was going to help me whether he liked it or not.

What I didn't tell him - silently or otherwise - was that I wanted to distract him from the pain of his injuries, or the nightmares in his eyes. It didn't matter; I was sure that he knew, but he accepted my invitation anyway, and that was what mattered: that I got the chance to help him. I could argue it was because I wanted a favour from MACUSA, or because Selwyns always repaid their debts, but in reality...Graves was a good man. And even if I wasn't a good woman, I had a weakness for the quality in the opposite sex. Especially attractive members of the opposite sex who could have left me to rot in a jail cell in the knowledge the British Ministry wouldn't allow me to stay there for too long, but had actually gone out of his way to get me out. Even if it took me forever, I'd still be here to help him.

And I wouldn't regret a second of it.

 


End file.
